The Great Disney Leap
by RogueMudblood
Summary: Sam has learned to expect the unexpected. He just never anticipated that would include this series of events.
1. Roger, meet Pongo

_For Warty Hogg and HorustheAvenger:  
You might not appreciate the content, as such, but I hope you'll appreciate the sentiment._

* * *

_To all readers: As with all authors, I appreciate feedback. I do like constructive criticism. If there's somewhere that you think I can improve, please do let me know. Though I don't normally indulge in crossovers (ever since my MS phase was successfully obliterated from the annals of history), I hope you enjoy the tale I've attempted to weave just the same._

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Quantum Leap, 101 Dalmatians, or Aladdin. I make no profit from this work of fiction.

Additional disclaimer: I know nothing of the care and keeping of animals on a professional level. Do bear that in mind.

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_A few years back, I might have been surprised by this turn of events. Before the bar in Cokesburg, that is. Since then, I've had quite a few adventures that defy explanation, so not much can astonish me. Of course, I'd never ended up overseas before._

_I'd leaped in at the back of a shop, which was a welcome change from being out in the open. A lot of my excursions landed me in public view. Unfortunately, I seemed to be surrounded by puppies._

"Ah, hello?"

_The good thing was that I wasn't the only American out of place, it would seem._

Footsteps echoed through the shop as someone entered. The sound stopped as they reached the front counter. "Hello, is there someone here?"

Dusting his hands off, Sam stepped from the midst of the puppies he had apparently been feeding. "Coming!" He stepped through the gated area separating the puppies from the rest of the shop. "Al," he hissed, hoping his voice did not carry. He made his way to the front of the store, still hissing entreaties for his wayward partner to appear.

"Ah, sorry?"

"Hm? Oh, nothing." Sam smiled gamely at the man standing on the other side of the counter. "Now. How can I help you?"

The man seemed to stare blankly at him for a moment before giving him a lop-sided smile. "I'm sorry. I just never get tired of listening to the way you talk over here."

Al chose just that moment to come around the corner. "Sam, do you know there's a cobra back here?"

Sam's eyes widened, but he had long since learned not to respond to Al's wayward commentary on the places he landed. "Haven't been here long then?"

"Ah, no, no. Just got in town a couple weeks back. Here on business, you know."

"Of course I haven't been here long, Sam. I always come right to you as soon as we can find you."

Sam sighed and smiled at the patron. "How can I help you then?"

"How can you –" Al looked incredulously at Sam, moving closer to him. He turned his head sharply to the left as he noticed the man on the other side of the counter. "Oh."

"Well, nights get a bit lonely. I was thinking maybe a pet?"

Sam nodded. "What kind of work do you do?"

"I'm sorry, but... Why do you need to know?"

"Well, it's important to choosing a pet, you see. If you have a job where you travel a lot, you wouldn't want a dog."

"Oh, no, I'm in town." Sam nodded. "I'll go ahead and tell you, I don't like fish."

Sam smiled and Al laughed. "I'll say. Sam, in a few years, he's gonna take a dive into a pond because of his pet–"

Sam and the patron had moved away from Al towards the right side of the store where the birds could clearly be heard chirping.

"Oh, no," the man said. "I have a bird that chirps so loudly every morning – can't get it to go roost anywhere else. Wakes me up right after dawn."

"Try setting out some bread crumbs at night on the window sill."

"Merawck! Fourteen."

"I'm sorry?"

"Merawck! Lucky."

The man looked confusedly at Sam who only shook his head. "Parrots. They tend to repeat anything they've heard, and at the oddest times. ...Would you like to see the puppies though?" The man nodded and Sam led him to the back of the shop.

He considered the full-grown dogs briefly, before shaking his head and moving to some of the larger puppies. "You said you're in town." The man nodded. "Do you spend a lot of time at home?"

"Oh, I work from home. That's one reason I get quite lonely."

He spent a few minutes playing with the six month old border collie before moving to the English Cocker Spaniel. Sam watched him, turning to the side slightly when he heard the tell-tale sound of Al's arrival in the room via 'the door'. "Not that one, Sam. That one's all wrong for him. Try something whiter."

As though the man had heard Al, he moved to the Shetland sheepdog whose bright white fur gleamed under the overhead lighting. "A little too white." Sam snickered softly at Al's comment, reaching down for the dalmatian standing between his own legs.

"Try this one." The man's smile widened impossibly as he took in the short-haired canine. Black spots dotted the soft white coat of the energetic puppy licking lovingly at the man's fingers. He laughed.

"He's certainly an affectionate one, isn't he?" The puppy barked.

"All dalmatians are. Very loyal dog. This one's..." Sam paused to check the tag to make certain he'd judged the age correctly by his size. "Eight months. He hears quite well. We have them all tested at six weeks and twelve weeks to make sure there's no hearing loss if they're born in kennel."

Al shook his head. "It never ceases to amaze me how you seem to absorb some information from your host." He pushed some more buttons on the keypad. "Talk him into this one, Sam. He has to get _this_ dog. It's vital to his future."

"They're energetic dogs, so you'll have to be available to take him for walks. And you'll have to make sure he knows you're the leader. You can do that, yeah?"

"I don't know... What do you mean?"

"When you walk him, don't let him lead. He can walk beside you, but he shouldn't walk in front." The man nodded. "And he'll need a lot of time with you. Dogs tend to get feisty when their humans leave them alone too long."

"I can do that," the man said decisively, cradling the dalmatian to him.

"Excellent!" Sam escorted him out of the puppy area. "Let's get you some information and set up an appointment for neutering–"

"Is that part required?"

"Well, no. Are there any other dogs in your neighborhood?" The man shook his head no. "Then if you change your mind later, you can call and I'll recommend you to a few places." Sam handed him a packet of paperwork as he took the puppy from his arms. "If you'll just fill that out for me. That way if you have any problems, we know where to start."

"Sure." As the man set to work filling out the papers, Sam moved about the store, hissing at Al to help him pick out the right things for dalmatian puppies so the man would have the right kind of food. Al snickered as the dog tried to lick his fingers and failed.

"He's a cute one. Maybe I can talk Tina into getting a puppy."

"She has you, doesn't she?" Sam whispered as he approached the front once more. "All done?" he asked the patron.

"Just about." He finished filling out the last few blanks as Sam rang up the purchase. Once the sale was completed, Sam reached his hand out to shake the man's hand.

"It was nice doing business with you, Mister..."

"Oh, just call me Roger." He turned to the door with the puppy in his arms. "Come on, Pongo. Let's go see your new home!"

And Sam felt the energy that transported him through time and space ripple through the body he inhabited. He landed with a jolt on cobblestones.

"Nothing but a bunch of filthy thieves, the lot of you! Can't be grateful for scraps. You have to actually try to steal from hardworking merchants!" Shaking his head to clear it from the leap, Sam looked to his right and caught sight of a man shaking a small boy by his shirt.

"Hey!" Hurrying over to the man, Sam pulled the boy from his grasp. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

"And just what do you think you're going to do about anything? You're too sick to fight me." Sam said nothing. "Well, I'll let your son go with a warning this time, but you had better make sure he never tries to steal from my cart again!"

The man stalked off as Sam turned to face the small boy. "Son? Oh, boy."


	2. Love is an Action

_To all readers: As with all authors, I appreciate feedback. I do like constructive criticism. If there's somewhere that you think I can improve, please do let me know. Though I don't normally indulge in crossovers (ever since my MS phase was successfully obliterated from the annals of history), I hope you enjoy the tale I've attempted to weave just the same._

* * *

Luna Goddess of the Night, thank you for your review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Quantum Leap, Aladdin, or Alice in Wonderland. I make no profit from this work of fiction.

A/N: I _do not_ use online translators to write. I write in English. I'm not about to insult anyone who actually speaks/reads/writes in the languages that the natives in the stories may speak.

I will also note that I am basing my knowledge of Disney's Aladdin from the first movie only. Therefore any details revealed in later media about Aladdin's parentage and history are not treated as canon here.

* * *

_I'd landed in a lot of situations where I had family I had to take care of when I leaped. I'd landed in some rough positions. I had never really landed in a marketplace like the one I'd found myself in when I faced down the merchant harassing the boy. To be told that the small boy who looked malnourished was my son made me miserable. How terrible was the situation I found myself in that this boy appeared to not have eaten? Add to that the fact that mere moments after I met him I had found myself doubled over with racking coughs and I was praying that Al found me quickly._

"You're not well. You should not have come after me." The boy was bracing himself against a wall that appeared to be ready to collapse while supporting Sam's body weight. He reached for the curtain, but Sam brushed his hand aside as he opened it for them.

"He wasn't about to let you go." Even that one sentence cost Sam's host-body numerous hacking coughs.

"Father, you need your medicine and we need food. Let me take care of these things. I'm crafty, you know." The boy's mischievous smile was contagious and Sam quickly found himself returning it. "Don't worry about the merchants." Sam seated himself gently on the pillows he had been led to. They were old and somewhat ragged. The boy turned away from him and began rummaging around in another corner of the room. He returned holding a cup out to Sam. "Here." When Sam did not immediately take the cup and the boy sighed. "I know it tastes bad, but you have to take it. The medicine helps." Sam nodded and reached for the cup, but his hand faltered, his arm falling back to his side.

The boy knelt beside him, tilting his head back slightly and holding the cup to Sam's lips. "Let me help." It took several minutes, but once the medicine was finally in his system, Sam found that he was very drowsy. He laid down, the boy covering him with a well-worn blanket. "Rest. I'll return soon." Sam tried to nod as he let the darkness overtake him.

* * *

Sam woke some time later to the sound of chalk scratching on stone. He turned towards the noise, squinting against the light streaming in from the window. It seemed the boy had pulled the curtain back so that he could get a better view of his subject. Sam watched in silence as the boy drew the palace in long strokes on the wall opposite the bedding. He smiled as he took in the detail – it was quite apparent that the boy had studied those walls for long hours.

The boy turned slightly and saw his father's face smiling at him. He grinned as he put down the chalk.

"You don't need to stop, son."

"You need some medicine. Not as much as you did last night." Sam's face must have given away his shock at hearing he had slept the entire night. "Yes, you slept all night. It's the first time in a while, so I'm glad you were able to get the rest. Are you feeling any better?"

Sam nodded as he sat up. His host's body did feel quite a bit stronger now. He grinned at the boy as he took the proffered cup and slowly drank its bitter contents. Handing the cup back, he cleared his throat. "I think I'd like to go for a walk."

The boy studied him in silence for several moments.

"I think that's an excellent idea, Sam."

"Al." Sam's voice was barely above a whisper and the boy's eyes narrowed slightly before he grinned and nodded.

"All right then." Sam exchanged a look with Al when the boy did not seem to react to his presence. "And I thought you hated calling me Al."

Al started pushing some buttons on the handlink. Sam smiled at the boy as he rose gingerly to his feet. "Well, you're growing up now. You're how old again?"

"Thirteen, dad." He reached into a pouch and pulled out some fruit, tossing it to Sam by rolling it down his arm and using his elbow to launch it. "Here. Breakfast."

Sam grinned as he caught it. "Thanks," he mumbled around a bite of the juicy pulp. He walked slowly to the door, and motioned for the boy to precede him. "Coming, Al?"

Sam received an affirmative from both, and the group walked out in to the bright sun.

* * *

They'd been walking for several minutes, the boy having moved ahead a bit and playing some with a few of the other children.

"Al, where am I?"

"You're not going to believe this, Sam, but you're in the Chagatai Khanate."

"I'm in China!" Sam hissed. "Al, do I speak Chinese?"

"More accurately in Turkestan, and I'd rather say it's obvious you speak the same basic language they do, or you wouldn't have been able to communicate with the boy."

"Okay, who am I? _When_ am I?"

"Well... We don't have any information on your name. Records from this era are a bit more sparse than we'd like. As for when..." Sam made an impatient hand gesture after several moments of silence on Al's part. "Ah, well. If you were in Italy right now..."

"Albert Calavicci!"

"...You could see the Mona Lisa painted." Despite his attempt to appear nonchalant as he said this, Al could not hide his wince. Sam was gasping for air as the reality of the time in which he found himself became clear. The boy came running back to them, and Sam motioned to him as he leaned against the nearest wall.

"I'm fine. Just a little winded."

"Should we go back?" The boy seemed disappointed yet determined. Sam shook his head.

"No, you go ahead and play. I'll rest here for a bit." When the boy was out of earshot, Sam glared at Al. "What's the boy's name?"

"Aladdin."

Sam's jaw dropped open. "You're telling me I'm in sixteenth century China in a _fairy tale?!_"

Al cringed as Sam's voice reached a very soprano pitch. "I'm not the one that sent you here, Sam. Obviously, you're here to do something, and I'd bet anything it has to do with that boy. The man in the waiting room said he was afraid he would soon meet his maker. Ziggy hasn't run numbers yet on whether you're here to save the dad."

"Well, run the numbers!"

Aladdin came careening back around the corner, and Sam forced himself to keep up with the boy as he ran past. They ducked down another alleyway and hid in the shadows. Sam was breathing heavily, but he kept his mouth closed so it was regulated through his nasal passages, preventing him from sounding as though he were gasping for air. The heavy thud of soldiers' boots echoed down the alleyway as they passed.

Several moments passed before Aladdin came out from his hiding place. "They've gone."

"What did you do to have them chasing you like that?"

Aladdin smiled. "Got us lunch." He produced a loaf of bread, breaking it in half and handing a portion to Sam. Movement to his left caught Sam's attention and he peered into the darkness. Al centered himself on the motion.

"It's a woman and two small children, Sam." Sam looked at the bread then traveled further into the alley toward the scared family. The mother put herself in front of the two children as he approached, glaring at him suspiciously. He pulled a small piece off the loaf and chewed it slowly so she could see nothing was wrong with it. He offered the remaining bread to her. She snatched it from his hand, tearing off a small piece and eating it to be sure before giving it to her children.

"Dad! What are you doing?!"

Sam turned back to Aladdin. "Sometimes we have to make a hard choice. You gave me a succulent fruit this morning. I doubt they've tasted anything of its like in a great while. Giving them my bread when I've already had something today is the least I can do." The boy looked down to the half loaf in his hand. "It's what we do for each other that gets us through each day, Al."

After several moments the boy nodded, tearing half from his own loaf and giving it to the woman. She pulled him to her, hugging him tightly as her tears of gratitude wet his tunic. When she released him, he quickly ate his bread, pulling a small cheese wheel from the spot in his clothes where he had hidden it. He broke it into pieces, and the five sat in the alley, enjoying their feast in silence.

"I think I understand," Aladdin said softly. "Doing the right thing isn't always easy, and sometimes it means letting go when we'd rather hold on." Sam nodded. "Thanks, Dad." Sam smiled at the boy, then felt the energy of the leap overtaking him once more.

* * *

"Thank heavens that ended quickly," Sam mumbled as he pushed himself up from the dirt in which he had landed.

"Whatever are you doing over there, Hatter? It's time for tea!"

"Tea?" Sam pushed himself up, gaining his feet and brushing the dirt from his clothes.

"Yes, tea. Now, here's your hat! Don't forget the pot and – Dormouse! Where are you? It's tea time!"

Sam stared in shock after the hare running wildly about the yard in which he found himself. "A talking … rabbit? Oh, boy!"


	3. Illuminating Truth

_To all readers: As with all authors, I appreciate feedback. I do like constructive criticism. If there's somewhere that you think I can improve, please do let me know. Though I don't normally indulge in crossovers (ever since my MS phase was successfully obliterated from the annals of history), I hope you enjoy the tale I've attempted to weave just the same._

_You may notice that I changed the rating on the story. Given that some issues which may come up in this story (cross-dressing being one of them simply because Sam will end up as a girl in the near future) and that this chapter briefly touches upon the concept of substance abuse, I did feel the increase to a higher rating was necessary._

* * *

As a brief reminder, I _do not_ use online translators. So even though we know that The Aristocats takes place in Paris, I shall not be writing in French.

Vassey, thank you for your feedback!

Luna Goddess of the Night, thank you for your review! I know you were expecting Sam to be Alice, but he's not quite going to be in the lead Disney role just yet.

Disclaimer: I do not own Quantum Leap, Alice in Wonderland, or The Aristocats. I make no profit from this work of fiction.

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_When the hare had plonked the hat down on my head and pulled me up from the dirt, I'd been curious naturally. He'd walked me around the small cottage, and I'd been somewhat shocked to see the extremely long table._

"There you are Dormouse! Now, I see, you were helping set out tea!"

"And just where else should I be?"

_I know my eyes had to be the size of saucers, taking everything in, and I'd seen some rather outrageous things in my lifetime. Even I had to admit, though, that a chocolate-colored hare with a blond mop between his ears wearing shoes and a dinner jacket, was far beyond the usual abnormalities I had been accustomed to._

"Well, Hatter, whose turn is it?"

"Turn?" Sam stumbled slightly as the hare pushed him closer to the table.

"Yes, yes. Whose turn to be at the head? Well, check your hat card, man!"

Taking off the hat, and feeling the soft tufts of hair adorning his own pate as he did so, Sam turned it around in his hands until he noticed the card sticking up from the band. He plucked it out gently, and the dormouse quickly snatched it from him, taking it over to the hare.

"Oh goodie, goodie! It's my turn!"

The hare sauntered to the head of the table and sat down, motioning for Sam to sit on his right. Allowing a smile to curl his lip, Sam sat, amused by the antics of the dormouse attempting to climb into the pot to the hare's left. Slipping the lid into place, Sam could hear the little fellow ambling about for a moment before the pot fell into silence.

"There now. I'll start."

Hearing a rabbit sing was a new experience in itself. The song he chose seemed even stranger to Sam, though the tune was catching. Joining in, Sam found himself swept up into the moment. It seemed completely natural to reach for the nearest teapot and pour a cup. His mother had brought him up to be a gentleman, so of course he offered the first cup to the hare.

Pouring a second, he found the dormouse tumbling out into the cup. The hare stopped mid-lyric and tsked.

"That mouse. Hasn't even got enough energy in him to wake up for an un-birthday party. No matter!" The rabbit picked up the song as though he had not halted at all. Sam found it most amusing and laughed as he poured his own cup of tea and joined back in the singing.

It was to this sight that the imaging chamber door opened and Al stepped through.

"Sam, we haven't quite determined why you're ending up in what seems to be story...books..." Al's voice trailed as he took in the scene, not quite able to accept the vision he was seeing.

Tipping his hat to him, Sam called out to Al to have a cup of tea. The hare turned about in circles, standing up in his chair to do so, looking about for the visitor.

"See here, Hatter! We're both mad enough already, no use going about calling out to people that aren't there!"

"Oh, but he is there," the dormouse chimed in, yawning as he spoke. "He is just... there." His hand was gesturing absently in Al's direction. Startled, Al seemed very fearful of approaching the table.

"Sam, are you quite alright?" Sam had been sipping on his tea when Al asked. As he put the cup back on the saucer, a giggle escaped him, followed by several bubbles. He giggled some more, but the bubbles did not follow a second time. "Sam, I think we should get you out of here."

"Well, tell me what I have to do to leap!"

"That's easy," the hare interjected. "You stand on the table, facing the garden. The you bend your arms and push off with your feet."

"Ah, but where should he bend his arm, at the elbow or wrist?"

"Whichever gives him more spring in his step, dear dormouse!"

Sam was laughing uproariously through the exchange. Al threw his arms into the air in defeat. "This place is a madhouse!"

"Exactly!" The dormouse seemed both sleepy and inebriated, his speech heavily slurred.

"Oh, Al! Lighten up a little. Some times, you just need a break to have a little fun." Al still seemed to be pouting, but through a little cajoling from both Sam and the dormouse, they did get him to sit at the table. Though he could not drink the tea, the atmosphere was contagious. Al found himself laughing and carousing – thought sadly without being able to partake of the tea – with the others within minutes.

Suddenly, the hare sat up straight. "Do you know, Hatter, I think there's someone new here with us."

"That's what we've been trying to tell you," the dormouse slurred. He slipped down into his empty teacup, soft snores emitting from it moments later.

"March, Al. Al, March."

Al sighed, shaking his head as the hare looked at the table, confounded because he could not see his guest. "Well, Al, apparently you are invisible to hares. I shall welcome you anyway!" He began another chorus of singing a skewed version of a birthday song.

Sam laughed, then sobered slightly as he looked at Al. "So what _does_ Ziggy say I'm here to do?"

"Well, Sam, as far as we can tell-" The sound of a trumpet blaring interrupted him, causing the hare to drop his teacup as he covered his ears. The cup shattered against the table, waking the dormouse. Shortly after, the blaring stopped, and a corpulent woman entered the yard.

Not knowing what else to do, Sam held up the teapot. "Tea?"

"No, you blithering idiot, I don't want tea!" Al cringed at the woman's shrill tone.

"She sounds like my third wife, Sam." The hand link squawked. "Oh, hear we go. You have to save Hatter from her wrath. Whatever that means."

Sam's eyes widened slightly as the woman continued her shouting. "– And furthermore, you shouldn't be having a tea party without inviting me!"

"But it's an open party," the hare said quietly. "And the last seven invitations sent to your majesty were returned by her cards. One of them came with dove's droppings."

The queen turned to her entourage, a saccharine smile plastered on her face. "Oh, royal messenger," she sing-songed. The card stepped forward, shaking as he answered her. "You do know what this means, don't you?" He nodded as she screamed her edict, two spade guards coming forward to carry him off. "Now that's done, where should I sit?"

"Where you like," Sam answered swiftly.

"Just like any gorilla," Al muttered.

"Wha-at?!"

"Oh. She can hear me too."

"You think you're funny, do you, Hatter, throwing your voice about?"

"Your majesty, I can't grab my voice to toss it, and if I could, how should I have gotten up to get it back when you haven't seen me move?" Al briefly considered what could possibly be in the tea. Sam's logic reminded him of several individuals he had known in his younger days that would often be quite free with their use of certain substances.

She sniffed as she sat at the end of the table opposite the rabbit, some twenty seats removed from the group. Sam picked up dormouse's cup and carried both it and its passenger halfway down the table before seating himself five chairs down from the queen. She glared.

"Is the king not joining us?" the hare asked as he moved down towards the queen on the opposite side of the table. "I should think he'd taste the tea first for your highness. Unless, your majesty, you trust our momentary lucidity was present in the making of the tea."

Her pallor turned slightly green at the prospect of being served an unknown substance, and the queen motioned for her husband to join them at the table.

"Now that's settled, back to tea!" The rabbit poured a cup for the queen, handing it to the king to taste first, then a cup for the king. Silence settled over them for a moment before the dormouse began singing softly in his cup. Sam laughed as he picked up the song, practically shouting the lyrics. The queen began to call for order, but soon realized that her protestations were falling on deaf ears.

"You're all mad!" She screamed as she stood.

"We're mad? Here now, I thought you knew. After all, there's no other reason a typist should be like a sparrow."

"A sparrow... What has a sparrow to do with anything?"

"Why, everything!" The hare held up his cup in a salutatory gesture. Sam just grinned insanely at the woman. She marched off in a huff, taking her entourage with her.

"Hmph," the dormouse squeaked. "She didn't drink her tea."

"Well, I should hope not." Sam looked over at the hare. "Well, it would have been wasted on her!" The hare quickly drank down the two cups of tea. "No imagination, none at all! Why, if she had an ounce then I'm a quite sensible fellow indeed."

Sam laughed as he stood from the table, helping dormouse onto a saucer so he could move the rodent swiftly to the other end of the table where they had previously been seated. Al stared at him.

"Sam, what is this all about?"

"Well, I saved the Hatter didn't I? His head's intact. Sometimes a little nonsense is all it takes."

Al shook his head as the hare began another round of singing, Sam leaping out of the Hatter's body mid-lyric.

* * *

"This way, Madame." Sam registered the voice, and the opening of the door beside him. A hand reached up towards him, palm up and flat. He reached out and took the hand, inwardly lamenting his state as a woman once more. Apparently, a woman who was enamored of furs, if the stole around his neck was any indication.

Sam found himself standing outside a type of parlour he did not recognize. "Where are we?"

"Where Madame requested, of course. Duchess should be finished shortly with her music lessons."

Sam nodded, waiting on the doorman as the footman who had helped him down from the carriage returned to his post. Once the door had opened, a woman seated behind the front desk rushed forward.

"Madame Bonfamille! So good to see you. I'll take you to where Duchess is practicing." He followed the woman down a short corridor, entering the room indicated.

Sam's eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight before him. The cat seated on the top of the piano case seemed to be singing. As the pianist finished playing, the cat stopped as well.

"Oh, very good, Duchess! You're getting better every time you come!" The cat preened, and Sam's eyes widened slightly.

_I have a singing cat? Oh, boy._


	4. Nesting in the Dark

_To all readers: As with all authors, I appreciate feedback. I do like constructive criticism. If there's somewhere that you think I can improve, please do let me know. Though I don't normally indulge in crossovers (ever since my MS phase was successfully obliterated from the annals of history), I hope you enjoy the tale I've attempted to weave just the same.  
_

* * *

Vassey, thank you for your feedback! My apologies for the delay on the chapter. Life has been a bit hectic.

Luna Goddess of the Night, thank you for your review!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Quantum Leap, The Aristocats, or Bambi. I make no profit from this work of fiction.

* * *

_It shouldn't necessarily seem strange, finding out that I have a singing cat after coming from a mad tea party with a singing hare and a dormouse in perpetual stupor. Somehow, though, that scene felt normal. This one strikes me as odd for its environment, and that's most likely why I'm shocked to find myself locking eyes with a _very pregnant_ singing blue-eyed white-furred feline._

"Oh, Madame Bonfamille, she's been improving so well. And given her condition – how much pressure those wee ones must be putting on her diaphragm, well, I'm most pleased with her progress! I must say we were surprised you brought her by."

"Well –"

"But we all know how cats of Duchess' pedigree are! More obstinate than any farm mule could ever be, to be certain." While the woman chattered on, Sam watched another employee place a set of steps next to the piano bench. He could not help the smile that came to his lips as the feline made her way down the stairs and came walking over to him, eying him with what he was certain was suspicion and mistrust.

"Hm. Well that's a bit odd."

"What is?" Sam had asked the question at the same moment Al had opened the imaging chamber door, so he almost missed the woman's reply.

"–tries to jump into your arms. But then, I suppose she realizes she needs the exercise for healthy kittens!"

"Kittens!" Al's exclamation almost made Sam jump. Barely managing to maintain his composure he gave the woman what he hoped came across as a polite smile.

"Thank you, but we must be going of course. I'm sure you don't want her nesting in your studio."

The woman shook her head rapidly at that and began to quickly usher Sam to the door, Duchess walking alongside. After being helped into the coach by the footman, Sam moved the pet bed on the seat down to the floor. Duchess licked her lips and blinked slowly at him before curling up into its cushions. Al snickered, clearing his throat when Sam shot him an irate look.

"Home, madame?"

Sam hummed a response that the driver took as an affirmation, soon finding himself traveling through the streets of Paris at a very relaxed pace. He looked to Al, simply raising an eyebrow.

"You know, Sam, sometimes, the way your host's personality traits come through are just too uncanny." At Sam's continued silence Al began pushing buttons on the hand link. "Okay, okay. According to Ziggy... Oh, that's just funny."

"Al," Sam hissed.

"Sorry, madame," the driver called. "I'll try not to hit the stones quite so hard. Frou-Frou, you must be more gentle in your trotting." His voice trailed as his chastisement to the horse grew quieter. Sam crossed his arms over his chest.

"That's not a ladylike posture, Sam. Your host would be appalled to see that stance on her figure." Sam glowered but relaxed his arms while stiffening his posture. Al could not help his snicker, but held up a hand as Sam was about to hiss once more. "You're here to help Duchess through birth."

The cat looked affronted at his revelation, mewling in complaint. Fortunately, Al had taken so long to reveal his purpose that they had arrived at the Parisian town house. Duchess hesitated only long enough to allow the footman to lift her pet bed into his arms as he lowered it with her astride to the cobblestones. After she had begun her slow, sauntering walk to the door, the footman gathered up the pet bed and offered his hand to Sam.

Taking the proffered palm, he followed the cat inside and to a private sitting room. He did not fail to note how bright and airy the house seemed. Once the servants departed the room, leaving Sam alone with Duchess and the ever-invisible Al, he turned to his holographic companion.

"She's not going to be able to nest here."

Al smiled. "Farm knowledge coming back to you a bit?"

Sam allowed a half-grin to twist his lips, acknowledging the truth of Al's words. "Regardless, I'm right."

"So you are."

"I just have to find a place for her to give birth, then?" Al shook his head slowly. Sam's eyes widened. "Al!"

"Sam, don't get upset with me. I'm not the one who comes up with these assignments! Besides, Ziggy's still trying to figure out why you're tripping through the lilies in fairy tale land to begin with!"

The younger man sighed and nodded. "Keep me updated on that. I've been through some strange leaps, but these last few are certainly the oddest."

"I'd say the last one was the oddest," Al muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." After pushing some more buttons on the hand link, he looked to his young friend. "She should be giving birth in the next couple days, Sam."

"She'll need a nesting place tonight then." Sam stood, smoothing the wrinkled from his dress. He paid no attention to the sound of the imaging chamber door opening and closing until Duchess mewled in discontent. "Oh, don't worry. He'll be back to make sure I've found you somewhere suitable to bring your kittens into the world." She looked at him, finally comprehending why her mistress was missing. With her eyes boring into his, Sam smiled softly at her. "I almost think I can hear your thoughts, my white-furred beauty." She preened at his praise. "And if I've interpreted correctly, you're most welcome. Now." He held out his arms as he stooped down to her perch. "Will you consent to being carried?"

Gingerly the cat entered his embrace, allowing him to lift her tenderly, tucking her feet securely in his hand as her belly lay against his arm. She looked between him and the door, and he chuckled, interpreting her gaze as impatience.

* * *

The next several hours were spent with Sam fetching various odds and ends for the feline once she had led him to her chosen room. He understood her difficulty on arrival. The room was bathed in light, being an art studio by all appearances, and there was no furniture to speak of for her to feel comfortable using for her needs. Sam had set her down tenderly before going back through the hall and gathering things from rooms he had passed along the way.

He hardly noticed he had worked through the whole day until the butler had come to let him know he was going to retire. A raised eyebrow had been the only comment on the redecoration, and the butler had bowed neatly once Sam dismissed him.

The next day had been spent in similar fashion, without a single interjection from Al. Sam had ordered the butler to move Duchess' food and water dishes while the footman handled making certain that accommodations were created to see to the feline's 'toilette.' Sam had smiled at the gentle word used to describe the necessary bodily function, especially given that it was not a human's undertaking that was in discussion.

Once she had awakened and drawn herself from her nest, Sam gave her a tour of the three rooms he had commandeered for the birthing of her kittens. Duchess spent the next thirty minutes lavishing affection on Sam with purring and nuzzling, the hypnotic rumbling serving to lull Sam into an exhausted nap.

* * *

He woke in the wee hours to the sound of labored breathing followed quickly by the chamber door heralding Al's arrival. Sam took one step towards Duchess before a low growl warned him to stop.

"Don't worry, Sam. We'll monitor her vitals."

Though it was Duchess' first pregnancy, she seemed to handle it like a professional. Al made an off-color remark about instincts, earning not only a glare from Sam, but a snarl from a very irate mother cat several hours later once the three kittens were born and nursing. Sam began the process of cleaning up, and noticed Duchess seemed to be experiencing a great deal of discomfort.

"Al, how many placentas did she discharge?"

"Huh?"

"Al! How many?"

Al began furiously pushing buttons on the hand link, beating the side against his palm when it seemed to be slow in responding. He looked up, giving Sam a worried look, once the computer delivered its answer. "Only two."

Sam bellowed for the footman. Al would later tell him that his shrieks for "Edgar" had been most unflattering. In those moments, however, it had been imperative that the footman go to wake the aging butler and immediately rouse the veterinarian.

"Quickly, Edgar! Duchess' life is at stake!"

Her labored breathing echoed in Sam's ears. He reassured her that help was on its way, but her eyes seemed to grow dimmer with each passing moment. Though it had been merely minutes, the time had passed so slowly to Sam it had felt as though hours had gone by. He was certain that Duchess would not survive, but the doctor gently ushered Sam out of the way. Within a few minutes, the third placenta was delivered. Rather than allowing her to eat this one, the veterinarian disposed of it.

"She'll be fine, Madame Bonfamille. If there are any complications, don't hesitate to call one me again, any time, of course." Sam thanked the doctor as the footman helped him back to the coach.

"Three beautiful young kittens, Duchess. You'll take excellent care of them." Duchess purred loudly as the energy of the leap overtook Sam once again.

* * *

The sound of hooves as they clacked against stone echoed across the clearing, filling Sam's ears. He nearly lost his hold on the leashes lying in his palm as the dogs tried to charge away from him, their barking startling the birds from the underbrush.

"What...?"

"C'mon, that huge buck just took off that way!"

Seeing the raised rifle in front of him, Sam loosed the hounds, letting them run forward into the high grass. His hand pushed the barrel of the gun upwards just as the shot fired, singeing his palm. The report echoed across the open field, and several irate huntsmen turned and stared from Sam's hand still on the barrel to his face.

"Oh, boy," he muttered.


	5. Solitary Solace

_To all readers: As with all authors, I appreciate feedback. I do like constructive criticism. If there's somewhere that you think I can improve, please do let me know. Though I don't normally indulge in crossovers (ever since my MS phase was successfully obliterated from the annals of history), I hope you enjoy the tale I've attempted to weave just the same.  
_

* * *

Vassey, thank you for your feedback!

Luna Goddess of the Night, thank you for your review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Quantum Leap or Bambi. I make no profit from this work of fiction.

* * *

_I had leaped into firefights before. I'd once joined my brother's battalion in Vietnam on a leap, so finding myself in the presence of guns wasn't new. Holding hounds at bay while seeing a rifle barrel directly next to my face _was_ a new experience, though, so I had reacted without thought._

"What were you _thinking_, boy?!"

A large hand clasped his shoulder roughly, turning him quickly as the cacophony of bird caws filled the air. Sam recoiled at the look on the face of the man who had spun him. He found his hand hoisted into the air so the man could examine it closely.

"Looks like it's just a light burn, should be okay with some ointment and rest," the man muttered gruffly before tossing Sam's hand back towards him. "You could have been seriously hurt, boy!"

"Daniel, he let the buck get away – not to mention all the other deer that fled when they heard that shot!"

Rubbing a hand down his face, tugging on his bushy beard as he did so, the man identified as Daniel sighed. "True. But it's his first hunt. And as I recall, when your boy – a good bit older than my John here – went on his first hunt, he not only loosed the dogs and scared off the game, he almost shot Harry there in his backside."

Laughter filled the meadow as the man having gone to get the dogs returned and they all began the trek back to their camp site. Sam did not try to hide the confusion he felt, and Daniel clapped a hand on his shoulder once more. "Don't worry 'bout it none, boy. Roger always makes a fuss when game gets away, so he woulda yelled at anybody." He gave Sam's back one rough pat before walking ahead with the others.

A bit dazed, Sam did not hear the opening of the imaging chamber door. When Al spoke, it was only years of experience that kept Sam from yelling in shock.

"Boy, I wish you could see yourself right now." Al was snickering as Sam scowled at him.

"Al." The admiral smiled.

"That hiss doesn't have the same effect coming from such a young face."

"Young? A-Al, how old am I? I mean, my host."

"We-ell, let me put it this way. You have about a decade before you can drive a car."

"A … decade?"

"Mm." Al began walking in the same direction the others had gone, Sam following along out of habit.

"Al, what am I here to do? I mean, this young – what can I possibly do?" Al did not answer right away, tilting his head to one side as he studied his long-time friend. "Al!"

"You may not like it." Sam rolled his eyes.

"I often don't."

Al snorted. "True." He took a deep breath before looking Sam directly in the eyes. "You have to help nature take its course."

"And exactly when did you take lessons on being cryptic? Out with it, Al!"

Sighing, the older man answered his friend. "Do you remember the Oswald leap?"

"Not … entirely."

Al sighed, not entirely sure how to broach Sam's mission. Sam had never taken it well when he had to do something he considered immoral. It was possible, though, that he could spin this.

"Okay, okay. You have to hunt a deer."

"Oh. Well, that's not so bad. I have experience with that at least, even if the boy I've leaped into doesn't."

"It's a specific deer."

Sam's shoulders dropped as he considered the implications, given that he had been leaping around in children's stories. "Al." His voice was quiet as he considered how to pose his question. "What … which story is it?"

Al sighed, knowing he could no longer stall Sam on this. "It's … it's Bambi, Sam."

"Oh, Al! Not Bambi! Can't I leap out? I don't want –"

"You know it doesn't work that way! You know you have to do what's right to set everything back on course."

"As far as I've been able to tell, Al, nothing is _off_ course!"

"Sam, there's an element here that we're not aware of, and until we figure it out, you need to do whatever you have to so you can move on to the next leap!" Al was breathing heavily, leaning towards Sam as their argument peaked. Silence dropped down on them as the echo of Sam's voice over the meadow died out. "Sam, it's not the first time you've had to be a villain in history."

"But this isn't history!"

"Yes it is! You've argued it yourself in the past – culture defines society as much as it describes it. The works of the creative mind confront social agendas as much as create them."

"Just because you're right doesn't mean I have to like it," Sam muttered. He slanted his eyes up toward Al, his typical sheepish expression evident. Al chuckled a bit as he followed Sam back to the camp.

* * *

"Steady hand, boy." Daniel was right behind him, one hand under Sam's left hand helping him balance the barrel, the other helping to place the stock securely against Sam's shoulder. "That's it. Now, aim..."

Sam squeezed the trigger, listening to the report of the rifle as he watched the tin can fly into the air when the bullet pierced it. Daniel's booming laugh filled his ears as the older man's heavy hand clapped his shoulder in congratulations.

"Good job, my boy! Great shot! Now, do it again."

Sam continued firing practice shots at the cans until he had exhausted the small cache of ammunition that Daniel had brought. Sam smiled up at Daniel. The older man nodded once as he gently took the gun from Sam.

"I think you're ready now, boy."

"Daniel! Are you coming?" Roger was standing off to the side, having gathered a group to go hunting. His rifle was held in his hand, muzzle pointed to the ground, as he waited on their answer.

"We're both coming, Roger. Don't worry. John here's ready. He didn't miss a shot."

"Yeah, well. Cans don't move." Roger turned away, obviously upset that Sam wasn't being left behind. Daniel just sighed and shook his head, grabbing his own rifle. Sam turned as he heard the imaging chamber door open.

"It's time, Sam." Sam nodded, shouldering his own rifle as he helped Daniel gather up their ammunition before reaching for the dogs' leashes.

"I got 'em, boy. Your turn to shoot." Daniel winked at Sam as he took the leashes, letting the dogs lead the way to their quarry.

* * *

They had crept up to the clearing, being careful not to spook the two deer they saw munching on the grass just budding up from the snow. A crunch that would have been considered quiet under other circumstances sounded, and everyone halted as Harry cringed. Roger scowled, but kept silent. Sam looked up to see that the doe had heard the noise and was now alert.

"Now, Sam," Al said softly. Sam crouched low and crept forward slowly, taking aim even as the others started to whisper at him to come back. Daniel waved them off, willing to let Sam take the shot since the deer had been spooked.

Sam let the weight of the rifle rest on his arm, moving it slowly to determine the amount of wind resistance for which he would need to account. The doe looked up as he lined her up in his sights and stared directly at him. Her ears turned, her pupils dilated, eyes wide as she somehow warned the young fawn with her. Sam mouthed the words 'I'm sorry' as he lifted the rifle to his shoulder. He felt a tear rolling down his cheek as she turned to run, following her retreat unerringly through the sights.

He kept his eyes open as he squeezed the trigger, watching as the fawn disappeared into the underbrush moments before the shot took down the doe. Sam stared at the crumpled body in the snow, not even trying to stop the tears he felt falling down his face.

"Oh, Sam." Al's voice washed over him, consolation in the reminder that this was a necessary act.

He felt the energy of the leap come over him once more and was glad he would not have to hear the men congratulate each other on their hunt.

* * *

The painting was slightly morbid. Bright red blood seemed to pour unceasingly into the snow, even though Samantha knew that it was just paint, and dry paint at that. She looked over to her sleeping son, shaking her head slightly.

He had come to her several weeks ago, asking for all of the children's media. He had painted several scenes since then, and she had thought it was a great way for him to express his creativity at his age. The art always appeared to capture a single moment that heralded a much longer tale, almost as though it were a photograph.

The first one had been two men in a pet shop, a rambunctious young dalmatian being passed from one to the other. One of the two men looked entirely too familiar to her, but she could not quite place where she knew his face from.

That same man appeared in each of the paintings, it seemed. Numerous pieces of canvas that now covered the walls of the room. Samantha had laughed when she first saw the painting of the Mad Hatter's tea party. Her son had smiled at her when she had told him how lovely it looked.

He was even present in this canvas, on a ridge in the background. Even though he was not the central focus of this image, her son had paid particular attention to the emotion on his face, and Samantha could clearly see the tear tracks along his cheeks. They seemed to flow just as endlessly as the blood, and the two elements together made a shiver run up her spine.

She was unsure why her son had felt the need to paint it, but she felt it was a very moving piece. She hoped when they discussed it in the morning, he would let her take it to her office at the Project.


	6. A Break in the Path

_To all readers: As with all authors, I appreciate feedback. I do like constructive criticism. If there's somewhere that you think I can improve, please do let me know. Though I don't normally indulge in crossovers (ever since my MS phase was successfully obliterated from the annals of history), I hope you enjoy the tale I've attempted to weave just the same.  
_

* * *

Vassey, thank you for your feedback!

krikanalo, thank you for your review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Quantum Leap, Beauty and the Beast, or The Black Cauldron. I make no profit from this work of fiction.

* * *

_Leaping into a dress was always an interesting experience. Finding myself in clothes that were extremely effeminate was only unusual when I apparently had the accompanying body parts. Of course, being an undercover officer pretending to be a hooker was – so far – a solitary experience. On this particular occasion I found myself riding horseback as I leaped in, which was unusual._

_The power leaping me through time rarely put me in a situation that could be dangerous. Oh, there were occasions. One instance in particular was when I had leaped into Jimmy the second time. A forklift with docks nearby was more dangerous than a horse, I reasoned, but I pulled back a bit on the reigns any way, looking around to get my bearings. It was when the birds startled that I became concerned._

"Belle! Is something wrong?" Sam turned toward the voice and gasped at the creature speaking. "You stopped."

"I... I..."

The creature approached Sam while he was still atop the horse. The equine appeared familiar with the beast stalking up to him, but seemed startled at Sam's presence. Wide eyes must have caused the creature some concern, as the beast slowed his advance. It was this moment that the sound of the imaging chamber door echoed through the clearing. The horse started somewhat at the loud noise. When Al spoke, though, the little restraint the horse had shown at its rider being overtaken by another being shattered.

Hooves stamped violently against the snow-covered earth, startled braying sounding devastatingly loud. Sam gasped as his hold on the reigns faltered. He was thrown from the horse amid Al's very vocal attempts to quiet the scared equine. A roar echoed through the clearing, causing the stallion to still. He lowered his head, whinnying softly. Sam picked himself up amid Al's constant barrage of requests as to his condition.

The beast stood a full foot taller than Sam, large and imposing. Sam found the creature quite frightening but thanked the furred man, stuttering, as the recognition of the very real threat of being trampled alive began to settle in, causing adrenaline to work its way through his system. His fingers and hands began shaking, and Sam fell to his knees.

"Sam, I'm sorry." Al's voice was soft.

The beast knelt behind Sam, wrapping arms covered in soft fur around him.

"Come, Belle. Let's go back to the castle. I don't know what's spooked Philippe, but I won't have the horse hurting you." Sam nodded, letting the creature help him up. "Come on up then." The beast Sam was beginning to recognize was very much a man knelt. Without thinking it through, Sam climbed on his back, wrapping his legs around the creature's waist as his arms clasped tightly around the thick neck before burying his face in the soft fur.

He had no idea how long they walked, but he did recognize the tale this time without Al's assistance. The hologram had not followed, presumably waiting until he could see Sam was in a more controlled environment before checking in on him again. The beast had taken hold of the horse's reigns and, walking upright, led them to a rather large and decrepit-looking castle.

After issuing orders to servants and having the horse led away to the stables, the beast led Sam into the large domicile and into a parlour room. The fire stoked in the hearth was inviting, and Sam allowed himself to be led to the seat closest to its warmth.

"Are you feeling better now, Belle?" The beast's query was somewhat hesitant.

Sam nodded slowly in response, eyes wide as he took in the bustling of servants catering to him. The ottoman wagged a tassel and panted as it settled itself under Sam's feet. An armoire dropped a blanket over him, tucking the edges in around his hips. A tea trolley pulled up beside him, tea pouring into the cup with sugar and milk being added before he could ask. The cup gently leaped into his hand, wide eyes staring up at him in concern.

Sam sipped the hot liquid, swallowing slowly so as to keep from having to make conversation. Once the Beast was certain that Sam was taken care of, he left to attend to the horse at the stables. The sound of the imaging chamber door opening caused Sam to sit up a little straighter.

"Sam, I'm sorry."

Sam hummed softly in response.

"I know, you can't really answer, and I won't keep on about it, but I didn't know the horse would react that way." Sam smiled into his teacup, shaking his head softly. "At any rate, you should know that you're already well on the road to leaping out of here."

Sam shifted in his chair so that he could turn to face the hologram. As he did so, a candelabra handed him a book, giving him a crooked smile.

"It's not the one you were reading, mademoiselle, but it will help to get your mind off of the events of the afternoon."

Sam nodded. "Thank you..."

"Lumiere," Al supplied.

"Lumiere." The candelabra smiled and bowed, leaving Sam to read the text. Lifting the book to cover his face, Sam allowed himself to pose questions aloud to Al. "I wonder what he meant."

"Who?" Sam's glare over the top of the tome spoke volumes. "Oh! Me. We're going to talk in code now. Okay." Al began pushing buttons on the handlink. "Well, according to Ziggy, you're here to help their relationship along."

"Oh, I see." Sam appeared to be engrossed in the tale, and it was apparently not unusual for Belle to make comments aloud as she read given the lack of reaction on the part of the servants still in the room.

"See, the castle's under an enchantment – " Sam made a noise of disgruntled agreement. "Right. You knew that. Moving along, then.

"Belle has been reluctant to demonstrate her growing feelings for the beast. He, likewise, has been averse to displaying his own increasing affections. So they're in a limbo at this point. You remember how the story seemed to catapult from reluctant friends at one point to tentative romance the next?" Sam hummed as he continued to skim and turn pages, finding the French novel he had been provided somewhat dull and trite.

"Ziggy's theory is that you're what pushes them forward to the next point."

Barely recovering his hold on the novel before it tumbled completely from his grip, Sam allowed his shock to show on his face. He did not have time to formulate a response, however, as the beast returned to the room, offering his arm to escort Sam to his chambers for the evening.

* * *

The next morning, Sam approached the stables with caution. Philippe nickered as Sam approached, and quieted when Sam adopted a conciliatory demeanor. Sam offered a sugar cube, which the horse lipped from his open palm. Gently petting the horse, he kept as much physical distance as his host's body would allow.

"I understand you can see me, and you're wondering where your mistress has gone," Sam said softly. The horse whinnied in answer. "I'm here to help her along a bit. She's been skittish about the beast, even though she likes him, wouldn't you say?" The horse nuzzled Sam's hand, and the time-traveler offered a bit of carrot to the equine. "So I'm going to try to help them get together. But in order to do that, I'm going to need your help."

Philippe lifted his head, his eye boring into Sam. He turned away, returning a moment later with his bridle in his mouth, offering it to the man to place on him. Sam smiled as he began to get the horse ready for a ride.

* * *

When the beast looked out into the courtyard and saw his desired paramour leading Philippe he was glad to know that the two had overcome whatever issue had been between them the day before. The horse was the only link she had to her previous life, and he had been distraught to think he would have to take that from Belle. He would not, however, allow anyone, animal or human, to harm her.

"Master?"

"All is well, Cogsworth. Philippe is no longer distraught with his mistress." His manservant nodded, standing quietly as he waited for any further instructions for the day. "I should like to spend time with her."

"Very good, sir. Shall I have luncheon prepared in the library?"

"No, no. I mean... I care a great deal for her, old friend. She does not cringe when she sees me. She is caring, and trusting. She would make an excellent Mistress."

Though he was a bit surprised by his master's declaration, the old servant schooled his features. "I believe the household would agree with you, Master."

Turning from the window, the beast smiled at his most faithful steward. "I have given her the library, and we have shared meals. She has shown herself willing to compromise. I think... I think even if I do not win her heart by the time the spell is to end, that she would not run from the opportunity. Even if..." The beast's voice grew rough, but he pressed on. "Even if she chose not to be my lover, I do not believe she would be opposed to running the household."

"Master, there is still time."

"I fear that it will take longer to win her over than I have left, Cogsworth." The beast turned to look out the window once more, seeing Sam leading the horse back towards the stables. "That does not mean I am giving up. But I will accept whatever fate falls upon me."

Cogsworth marveled at the change in his master. The prince had been so self-absorbed before the witch's spell that they had cowered at his moods. Until Belle's arrival, his behavior had been little better than the form he had been forced to assume. They were all certain that they would perish in their current forms, and had accepted that. Some were bitter, to be sure, but by some twist of the spell, any who had voiced mutinous intent had their voices stripped from them. The witch apparently intended them to spend eternity together, castigating them for their familial obligations to their lordship just as surely as she condemned him for his behavior.

Recently, though he appeared as much an animal as ever, his demeanor was more a man than it had ever been. As the servant watched the beast stare into the dome covering the enchanted rose, he recognized the truth his master dared not voice. The beast had fallen in love with the ravishing beauty of a servant from the village. They had only to convince her of her similar sentiments in order to break the spell.

* * *

Sam was escorted into the library. He took a few moments to marvel at the collection, not aware that he was being observed from the shadows by the master of the house. He approached a shelf, noting that the content appeared to be solely fiction. He continued walking through the library, aware of the feeling of petticoats swishing against his shins as he walked.

Upon discovering the non-fictional section of the library, he was enthralled by the works he found. Sam was just reaching for a tome when he heard the imaging chamber door open.

"Careful, Sam. That's not the kind of thing Belle has shown any interest in."

Sighing, Sam let his fingers trail over the spines as he turned away, heading back the way he had come. He was slightly surprised when the beast appeared to lead him to a small table for dining, and allowed himself to blush as the chair was pulled out for him while Al coached him on eighteenth century femininity.

After their lunch, the beast walked Sam to a sun room, leaving him there to rest, and requesting his presence that evening.

"I wish to show you what life in the castle has to offer – in all of its entertainments."

Sam had marveled at the beast's response and had agreed without much thought. Once his escort had left the room, Sam turned to a bemused Al. "Oh, Al. What am I going to wear?"

Al snorted. "That's been arranged, I'm sure. You'll match him in whatever garment he chooses for you." Sam nodded. "Not concerned about that?"

"The clothing of this period, Al, is extremely restrictive. Especially in the upper class."

"Oh, I don't know." Sam turned to take in his comrade and found Al's gaze glued to his partially exposed breasts. "Seems a little light at the top." Sam blustered for a moment before Al laughed and began instructing him on the etiquette that would be required that evening, having to abuse the handlink profusely in order to obtain the information.

* * *

When Sam saw the beast dressed in his ornate clothing standing on the opposite stairway, he was momentarily breathless. The blush that washed over his face caused the beast to attempt a gentle smile. Their evening progressed wonderfully, and Sam certainly hoped that the amorous feelings that were welling within him were a result of the merging of his mind with Belle's.

As he found himself being twirled around the dance floor, he laid his head on the beast's shoulder, allowing his body to move closer than what was considered appropriate for that time. He heard the hushed whispers among some of the servants, felt the tension rise in his partner, and lifted his head to find large questioning eyes peering down at him. He reached a hand up, carding his fingers through the soft fur. The beast lowered his head as he pulled Sam's body closer to his own, lifting him off his feet. Just as their lips touched, Sam felt the energy of the leap flow through him.

* * *

He felt his arms outstretched, palms open and facing upward as he leaped into his new host. Sam noted the false smile stretched across his face, and quickly took in the angry appearance of the boy wielding a stick staring down at him. He took a moment to observe his own appearance from his extended arms and laughed.

"Think it's funny to steal from me, do you?" The boy brandished the branch as though he meant to hit Sam, waving it back and forth above his head.

Sam ducked away from the boy, running into the underbrush, hoping to slip away quickly. "Oh, boy!"


End file.
